


What a Being of Celestial Intent Doesn't Know

by AndrewFloydWebber (emtbomb)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sam Winchester, Angst, Bottom Dean, Drunk Dean, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Top Castiel, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4871671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emtbomb/pseuds/AndrewFloydWebber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TUMBLR PROMPT:</p><p>Dean is drunk and starts to flirt with Castiel. Castiel don’t see the problem in having sex with Dean even though he’s drunk, since they have had sex before and Castiel can’t see the difference between then and now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Being of Celestial Intent Doesn't Know

**Author's Note:**

> My first time filling a tumblr prompt!!! Also please read the tags! This could be considered rape. Here is the prompt in full:
> 
> Dean is drunk and starts flirt with Castiel. Castiel don’t see the problem in having sex with Dean even though he’s drunk, since they have had sex before and Castiel can’t see the difference between then and now.
> 
> Give me a Castiel that doesn’t understand how wrong it is, a Dean feeling betrayed the day after and an angry Sam. And I want Castiel to feel extremely guilty and sad when he finds out that it is practiclly rape. 
> 
> (Top!Castiel, please. And please focus more on the day after and their reactions to all of this than you do on the sex-part.)

Dean wakes up that slow way he’s used to after a night out in between cases. At first he can’t move, something called sleep paralysis that basically means your brain wakes before your body knows what’s up, so he scrunches his face together and forcefully stretches his jaw in an attempt to gain control over his muscles. 

After what’s probably only a couple of minutes he’s fully mobile, if not completely awake, which means he can finally feel the extent of his hangover. His head is foggy and hurts like a bitch and he’s got that really annoying nausea that just sits there instead of forcing you to the bathroom. His whole body aches and he barely notices any specific hurt beyond his throbbing temples. Dean sits up with his legs swung over the side of the bed, digging his palms into his eye sockets.

He waits for the inevitable flood of regrettable memories to come back to him. He remembers hanging all over Cas last night and a lot of eye-rolls from Sam. He smiles, remembering teasing Cas with the neck of his beer bottle, inserting it much deeper and slower into his mouth than one usually does when they take a swig.

His smile deteriorates when he recognizes the familiar ache in his throat and dull pain in his ass. His jaw clenches as more memories flood back to him.

_His speech is slurring and he’s not quite mobile. Cas maneuvers him to the alleyway, kissing him forcefully before zapping them back to the motel. “Cas.” He whispers, not out of lust or hunger, but in need of purchase. He’s even more disoriented after the ‘flight’ and he longs to curl up with his angel and fall asleep._

_He must have blacked out for a bit, because all of a sudden he’s naked on his back with Cas’ fingers inside of him._

_”You ready to make good on that promise?” Cas grits out in his dominant growl that Dean always responds so well to. Dean moans in pleasure as Cas’ three fingers brush that sweet spot once more before pulling out completely. Cas stands up from the bed and walks to where Dean’s head is resting on a pillow. He pulls the hunter’s body closer to the edge and presses his thumb to Dean’s chin._

_”Open up, baby. Get me nice and wet for you,” the angel says. Dean drowsily complies._

Dean’s stunned as he shakes his head, willing the memory to stop. He’s missing pieces, that’s how fucked up he was. Cas must’ve seen that… must’ve known that Dean was in no shape to continue or even add anything to the expirience. He groans as the night continues to come back to him and he realizes Cas didn’t quite need his participation.

_After a few thrusts, Cas removes himself from Dean’s mouth. He leans down to kiss Dean deeply as he climbs on top of him._

Dean feels hollow and sad and he doesn’t really know why. He knows he enjoyed it. He almost vividly remembers the sparks of pleasure and himself moaning for Cas to give him more. It feels silly to think the angel took advantage of him. He must weigh at least 190 lbs and he’s 6’1” for crying out loud. But he has a feeling he couldn’t have stopped Cas if he had wanted to. Hell he thinks he wasn’t even coherent for most of it. 

The mixture of sadness, anger, and dread are pushed aside for a moment as Dean tries to focus on his current state. He knows Cas could just whammy the pain away, but the thought of being touched by Cas, even just a finger to his forehead, churns his stomach even more. Fuck, he’s really got to suck it up. It’s not even the worst thing that’s happened to Dean this week and it’s barely Cas’ biggest betrayal to date. Somehow, that doesn't make Dean feel any better. 

Dean rummages for his boxers and his robe, feeling slightly less vulnerable than he was a moment ago, and makes his way towards the kitchenette for some Excedrin and coffee. 

Sammy is laughing, trying to explain the rules of football to Cas, exuberantly gesturing to the tiny TV screen. Dean’s never cared much about sports, never bothering to watch except on Thanksgiving. It always brings back fond memories of buckets of fried chicken, a couple of beers, and sitting back with his father and Sammy in whatever fleabag motel room they were holed up in that year. Even the memory of his Dad doesn’t bring up his mood any. Nott for the first time, Dean reaches to squeeze his brass amulet for some reassurance. Unfortunately it’s long gone, leaving a phantom weight on his chest. 

“You look like shit, man.” Sammy half chuckles, looking over as Dean rubs his eyes before filling his mug with coffee. 

Cas turns towards Dean, standing up to make his way towards the hunter. “Hello Dean. Are you experiencing a hangover? I could help –“

“Don’t touch me.” Dean growls, though he didn’t mean for it to come out so forcefully. He doesn’t want to talk about it right now and he just drew both Sam’s and Cas’ undivided attention with his outburst. 

“Dude, you OK?” Sam asks, his brow furrowing in concern. Dean rolls his eyes and makes his way over to an empty chair. After taking the pain pills he rests his elbows on the table and attempts to scrub his weird mood away with his hands.

“Dean, are you sure you don’t require any assistance?” Cas asks, making it clear with his posture he will not attempt to touch Dean. Like the taller man is some sort of wounded animal. Where the fuck was this concern last night, Dean asks himself? It only serves to make him angrier. 

“No, you’ve helped enough, Cas.” Dean snaps. Cas cocks his head and stares at Dean with confusion written all over his face. It softens the hunter a bit. That expression is one of Dean’s favorites. Dean’s heart hurts.

“What’s going on?” Sammy asks. “Cas? What happened last night after you guys left?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. I brought Dean back to the room, we had intercourse, and then I took a quick shower and cleaned Dean up as well. I heard you come back and returned to Dean’s bed to watch him sleep.” 

Dean groans at the term intercourse. Drunk sex or not, it’s just weird. And he cleaned Dean up? That’s just nine kinds of embarrassing. 

“YOU WHAT?” Sam yells. Dean looks up at his brother, not expecting such a visceral reaction. Cas obviously wasn’t either because he actually stumbles back when Sam shoves him away from Dean with both hands. 

“Sam, I thought you were OK with my relationship with your brother? You’ve never expressed any displeasure before. You’re the one who told me to take him home and ‘tuck him in’ last night.” Again with the air quotes. Dean almost smiles

“Dean could barely fucking stand by the time I said that! I trusted you to get him back safe, you asshole!” Sam looks livid and guilty at once and that’s always been a scary combination with him, but Dean can’t bring himself to interrupt. He’d like a fucking explanation as well. 

“I don’t understand. Are you hurt Dean?” The angel moves towards his hunter again, but is blocked by Sam who pushes him back even more forcefully. This time Cas’ back hits the wall and Sam has him pinned. The angel could easily maneuver his way past the youngest man, but he’s obviously unsure of himself.

“Yea he’s fucking hurt, you bastard! You practically date-raped him.” Sam seethes. Dean flinches at the term. 

“I don’t understand -“ 

“Was he even fucking awake? Huh? Or do you get your kicks screwing the unconscious?”

“No, that’s not-“

“I can’t believe you!” Sam has his hand on Cas’ neck now, Dean thinks he must be seeing red. “Tell me, could he even get it up?” Whoa. Uncalled for. 

“That’s enough, Sam!” Dean barks, standing back up; headache and pain forgotten “Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room.”

“I’m sorry Dean.” Sam lets Cas loose and turns back towards his brother. “God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think he’d-“

“I don’t understand what is going on.” Cas interrupts, though it’s barely audible. Dean sees that his angel’s face has crumpled. He looks like a sad puppy who can’t quite understand why his owner smacked him over the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. Dean’s anger melts away and he has the urge to wrap his arms around the raven-haired man before him. But he still feels hollow and heavy at the same time and can’t bring himself to move. 

“Sam, can you give us a minute?” Dean asks. Sam looks like he’s about to argue but Dean stares him down and the younger Winchester keeps his mouth shut. He huffs, grabs the keys and his jacket and purposely bumps shoulders with Cas on his way out the door. He ends up hissing and grasping at his shoulder in pain, as the angel is unmovable, practically an unmovable statue. This only serves to piss the kid off more and he slams the door on his way out. Dean and Cas hear the rip of the impala pulling out of the parking lot too fast. 

After an awkward moment, Cas begins to speak.

“Dean… I don’t… I think I did something wrong.” Dean feels a wave of exhaustion and takes his coffee to the couch. He practically falls onto it as he motions for Cas to join him. 

“Listen, Cas. When a human is… intoxicated... past a certain point, they are no longer fully aware of their surroundings or what is happening. Their brains get, I don't know, fuzzy, and everything is sort of far away and soft around the edges at the same time.” Ugh it feels like he’s explaining being drunk to a first grader. But Cas’ been drunk only once and Dean is struggling to put his thoughts in order. 

“Look all I can say is that I was in and out last night, man. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, because I’m pretty sure I did, but that’s kind of the point. I didn’t really have a way to let you know if I wanted you to stop and I definitely couldn’t have made you by force if I needed to. I had no control.”

“I wouldn’t have continued if –“

“I know that, buddy, I do, but... What happened last night just feels wrong, OK? I don’t know how to explain it any better than that. We’re supposed to take care of each other and I...” Dean trails off, unsure why this is so difficult.

If it’s possible, Cas’ face falls even further and his big blue eyes fill with sadness and little bit of pity. “I betrayed your trust. Again. I’m sorry, Dean.” The angel opens and closes his mouth a few times, obviously struggling as much as Dean. He looks completely disgusted with himself and it is gut wrenching for Dean to witness all over again. 

Before Dean can say anything, the angel vanishes, leaving Dean completely and utterly alone. Dean’s chest aches. He reaches out and smacks the mug off the coffee table, watching it shatter and brown liquid spill out onto the dirty carpet. He doesn’t bother to get up to clean the mess. Instead he closes his eyes and waits for either the rumble of the impala or the flap of wings. It’s hours until he hears either.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not the cleanest piece of writing and the ending could definitely use work, but I kind of think that's ok because I think the situation wouldn't be easily resolved... Sorry OP, if it's not what you were looking for!
> 
> On a different note, if you're wondering about Switched At Birth, it has not been abandoned!! Things have been super crazy at work and this particular chapter has been giving me trouble. When I get it finished, it should be smoother sailing. But it will be posted soon :)


End file.
